Stingray Billionaire: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (32 page)

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Dax

"
The
fuck, Dax!" Beck shouted as he slammed
open the door to my office. "What the fuck are you doing to me?"

"What are you
talking about?" I asked as I looked over the books on my desk and compared
them to the files on my computer. I kept several sets of books just in case
something happened to one of them, and every week, I personally squared each of
them to make sure that no one was cheating me. So far, so good, but I knew I
couldn't ever drop my guard or they'd be at me like wolves on blood.

"I'm talking
about the fact that you cut me off, big brother!" He was frantically
pacing the floor in front of my desk. He was obviously in need of a fix, but
not jonesing too hard yet. "You told all the street dealers not to sell to
me! The fuck, man?"

"Beck, I've
given you every opportunity to sober up and get clean," I repeated the
same speech I'd been giving him for the past five years, knowing full well that
it would do as much good as all the other speeches I'd given him. Beck hadn't
yet hit bottom and until he did, he wasn't going to be motivated to get clean.
My heart ached from wanting my little brother back, but I also knew that I
couldn't do anything for him. He had to want it for himself.

"Fuck that
clean shit, man," he waved at me as he paced restlessly. "Take your
do-gooder bullshit to another audience, bro."

"It's not bullshit,
Beck," I said as I watched him. He was deep in the grip of a heroin
addiction, and I could see the effects. His skin was pocked and bleeding in
places where he'd picked at it. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt covered by
a sweatshirt and a hoodie even though it was ninety degrees outside. And, I
could see that he still hadn't gone to see the dentist I'd found for him. He
needed to get his teeth looked at, but he refused to go.

"It's
absolute bullshit, Dax, and you know it," he said.

"Why do you
say that? I'm doing everything I can to help you," I replied.

"Yeah, but
you're still selling the shit," he shot back. "You're a fuckin'
street dealer who counts on the junkies like me to need what you're selling.
You feed on us, bro. You create the habit and then you keep us weak and
enslaved so you can sit in your penthouse counting your cash."

"That's not
fair, Beck," I said in a measured tone. "You know what I do. I
provide a product to those who require it. It's as simple as that."

"Yeah, but
it's not simple when you're sitting on your high horse preaching to your little
brother who is a smack addict, now is it?" he said pointedly.

"You have a
choice," I replied.

"And so do
you, big brother," he said as he put his palms on my desk and leaned over
to look me straight in the eye. "You've got a choice to hook me up with
what I need or to face the consequences of your actions."

"What the
hell are you talking about?" I said as I waved him off. "Get the fuck
out of here!"

"I'm talking
about what we both know," he said. His eyes were burning with a fevered
light. "You know what I'm talking about. If you don't hook me up, I'm
gonna go down to the precinct and tell them everything I know about this
business."

"Beck,"
I warned. He'd threatened this a hundred times, and every single time I'd
explained how it would work if he did that. Somehow the fact that he was a
junkie didn't quite sink in and the fact that I'd worked hard to keep the
business buried deep underneath a number of legitimate businesses buried under
a number of other legitimate businesses didn't seem to register. "You
don't want to do that."

"No, you
don't want to do that!" he yelled. "Give me my stuff! Dammit, Dax!
Give me my stuff!"

He was dangerously
close to a total meltdown, but we'd been to this edge many times before. I
watched him as he spun further and further out of control, hoping that this
time would be the time he realized that he needed help. He stomped and screamed
and threatened me with every violent act he could think of before he turned and
looked at me and screamed, "I hate you!"

"I know you
do," I said. "But I love you enough to let you hate me if it means
you'll get help and come back and be my brother again."

"Fuck that
shit, man," he scoffed. "Why the fuck would I want to be your
brother? A fuckin' loser like you? Hell no, motherfucker!"

"Beck,
please," I said quietly.

"Fuck you,
man," he said as he stalked to the door and flung it open. "You're so
fucking selfish, Dax. Always have been and always will be. No wonder everyone we
love is dead. They couldn't compete with your self-centered need to be the
focus of the universe. Don't worry, I'm next up!"

He turned and
raced down the stairs and tore across the dance floor to the exit. I could tell
he was crying and it killed me. The hateful things he said to me when he was in
desperate need of a fix tore me up and left a gaping wound that took a long
time to scab over. Unfortunately, every time I thought maybe it would get the
chance to heal, Beck would tear the scab off and thrust a knife deep into the
tender part.

I rested my elbows
on my desk and dropped my head into my hands as I breathed through the pain and
vowed never to let him flay me like that again.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

Brooke

Later
that afternoon,
Jordie stuck his head in my office and asked me to come down to the conference
room. I grabbed my coffee mug and walked down the hall to join them. Alma had
made yet another fresh pot of coffee and I silently thanked her for keeping us
caffeinated.

"What's
up?" I asked as I walked into the room.

"Come sit
down and listen to what we've got," Jordie said. He was holding a stack of
papers that looked like they'd been stuffed in the bottom of a backpack.

"Okay, lay it
on me, guys," I said as I sat down and prepared to hear their game plan.
Jordie looked at Roger and nodded.

"Alright,
well, we've gone through Lydia's client list and narrowed it down to the top
ten clients we think we might be able to attract," Roger began.

"Just
ten?" I asked with mock surprise.

"Well, we've
got another ten backups just in case these don't work out," Roger said.
"But we thought that if we went after more than ten it would look
suspicious."

"Oh, and
mining a dead lawyer's client list the day after she's pulled out of the water
isn't at all suspicious?" I said.

"There's no
need for sarcasm, Brooke," Jordie warned. He was right, but I was thinking
about how all of this would play out in the papers. Especially since I'd be the
face of the firm.

"I know, I'm
just thinking ahead," I said. "You guys have thought about how this
is going to play out, right?"

"Yep, we
certainly have," Roger said. "That's why we've got a schedule for how
each of these clients should be approached and an individual plan for how we
can put ourselves in the path of client so that it doesn't look fishy."

"Seriously,
Roger?" I said incredulously.

"What? Too
soon?" he said with a crooked grin.

"Definitely
too soon," Jordie piped in. "Okay, so what we're going to do is fan
out and do a wide sweep of the client list. Roger and I are good for the clubs
and parties since we're already well-known on the circuit."

"I guess your
wild ways will come in handy, after all," I said with a wry grin.

"I told you
we were laying the ground for something important," Roger insisted. I wanted
to smack the goofy grin off of his face, but I knew he was completely serious,
so I let it pass.

"So, where do
I come in?" I asked.

"We want you
to land the big fish," Jordie said as he handed me a crisp sheet of paper
that contained three names. I looked at it and inhaled sharply. "I know
it's asking a lot for you to try and talk with these people, but we figured
that with your dad's connections you might be the one best suited to approach
them."

"Jesus,
Jordie, are you serious?" I asked.

"Deadly,"
he replied. "If we can land one of those three, then we'll be set for at
least a year, and the publicity alone will give us a high profile and attract
more clients."

"You're
talking about vying for one of three different high profile businessmen in
LA," I said. "Don't you think that they might be wary of the fact
that we'd offer to represent their rivals?"

"We thought
about that," Roger said. "And, we decided that it's more of a push
game. We play them off of each other and then pick the one that shows the most
promise."

"Or we end up
pissing them all off and being frozen out entirely," I said. "Did you
wise guys think about that?"

"It's a risk
no matter how you look at it, Brooke," Jordie shrugged. "Either we go
big or we go home."

"What's the
game plan if they find out that we're playing them against each other?" I
asked.

"We tell each
of them that the others have pursued us, but that we only want to represent
them," Roger said.

"This is a
very risky game, my friends," I said shaking my head. I had a sinking
feeling about this for more than one reason. I knew that the guys had done the
best they could, but I didn't like where this was headed and I wasn't sure I
was willing to do what it would take to play the game the way they wanted.

"It's not
worth it if it's not a big risk," Jordie said. "Are you in?"

I looked back down
at the list in front of me: William Grant III, Ari Bloomberg, and Dax Malone. I
took a deep breath and said, "Okay, I'm in, but I want you to know that
it's reluctantly. I don't like this one bit."

"Duly
noted," Jordie nodded. "We'll do our best to make it work on our end,
Brooke."

"We'll do
everything in our power to try and mine our list first," Roger added.

"I hope this
works," I said as I looked at the two of them. "Because if it doesn't,
we're going to be in hot water."

"Well, you
know what they say," Jordie said. "Getting into hot water helps keep
you clean!"

I raised an
eyebrow, nodded and stood up. "I hope that's true, Jordie," I said as
I turned and walked out the door clutching the list that was either going to
make or break us.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

Dax

"
We
need to do something about Beck, Ri," I said. I'd
called her the minute Beck had stormed out of my office and told her to come
up. She'd walked through the door minutes later and perched herself on the arm
of one of the chairs in front of my desk.

"What do you
want me to do?" she asked. She was wearing her usual uniform, a black
t-shirt topped with a fashionably distressed camouflage jacket, tight black
leather pants, and a pair of tightly laced Doc Martens. Her hair was pulled
back in a neat braid that stretched down to the center of her back and, even
without makeup, she was incredibly striking. I'd always told her she should try
for a modeling career, but when I did, she'd give me look like she thought I
was crazy and go back to whatever daredevil thing she was aiming to attempt.
Riza had a penchant for risk taking, and that's why I made her my right hand.
She'd do things that I couldn't afford to do while trying to maintain a
legitimate face in the business community.

"I'm not
sure, yet," I sighed. "He's out of control, though."

"'So, let him
have his dope," she shrugged. "I mean, what the hell, Dax? He's going
to get it from someone, and you know that. Why not let him have it from a
trusted source that you know supplies clean junk?"

"I feel like
if I do that, then I'm killing him, Ri," I said. "But if I don't,
he's going to open his big mouth and spill what he knows, and then we're all
going to suffer."

"Dax, I hate
to break it to you, but your brother is a junkie," she said as she looked
down and examined her hands. "I know he's your brother and that you two
have been through a lot together, but when are you going to stop treating him
like he's a fragile little flower and face the fact that he's a junkie?"

"He's my
responsibility, Ri," I said. "I'm supposed to look after him and
protect him. I feel like I failed at giving him a better life."

"Oh, Jesus H.
Christ, spare me the sob story, would you please?" she said in an
irritated voice. "Life is fucking hard for everyone! We've all experienced
some kind of tragedy or hardship, but Beck is using it to fuel his drug habit
and that's all there is to it."

"Harsh,
Riza," I said narrowing my eyes as I looked up at her. She was angry with
me, but she was the only one who could really challenge me because she knew
what we'd been through. Heck, she'd been through it with us.

"Yeah, well,
someone has to smack you with the reality stick," she said as she gave me
a thin smile that contained no joy. "I'm just saying, Dax. Beck is so far
gone in his addiction that there's no getting him back right now. He's either
going to OD or he's going to see the light and clean himself up. And right now,
I'm wagering on the former."

"But what if
I can do something to save him from himself?"

"Dax,
seriously man, you should know this by now," she said shaking her head.
"You can't save anyone. They have to want to save themselves. Haven't you
learned anything during our journey?"

I ran my hand through
my hair as I exhaled loudly and shook my head. She was right. For a while after
Papi had died, Riza had descended into the world of drug-induced comfort. I'd
pulled her off the street more times than I could count, but it wasn't until
she made the choice to get clean that she came to me and asked if I'd put her
in rehab. I still had no idea what had sparked the change, but I kept asking on
occasion, hoping that it would provide the key I needed to help Beck get clean.

"What made
you decide to get clean?" I asked.

"C'mon man,
we've been through this song and dance a hundred times," she said.
"You know I don't talk about that shit."

"I'm serious,
Riza," I implored her. "Maybe there's something about your experience
that will make a difference for Beck."

"If that's
the case, then he needs to ask me about it," she said. "I'm not gonna
tell you and have you try to relay it to your junkie brother in the hope that
you'll somehow save him."

"Then you
tell him!" I shouted. "Dammit, Riza! We have to do something! He's
slipping away and, in the process, he's trying to take us down with him!"

She sat across
from me staring down at the desk for a long time before she looked up and
smiled. She nodded and then stood up.

"I’ll find
him and see what I can do to talk some sense into him," she finally said.
"No promises, but I'll give it my best shot. And if I can't..."

"If you
can't, you know what has to be done," I said meeting her gaze. "I
want to save him, Ri, I really do, but if I can't, then I'm not going to have him
taking down the organization on his way out."

"Consider it
done, boss," she said with a nod and turned to leave.

I sighed as I
rubbed the stubble on my jaw and wondered why everything felt like it was
coming apart at the seams right now. First it was Lydia, and now Beck and the
business. At least I had dinner with Brooke to look forward to tonight. I
looked down at my watch and realized I'd better get moving if I was going to
make it to her place on time.

"Can just one
thing please go smoothly?" I said to the empty room as I walked out the
door and down the stairs.